Harry sat before the window with his nose pressed against the frosted window pane, watching the snowflakes swirl to the ground. Usually, Christmas was thirteen-year-old Harry Potter's favourite time of the year, but this year he was hard-pressed to work up any excitement about the occasion.

Just a few weeks ago, Harry had been filled with anticipation of the coming holiday; his dreams of having a home and a family were finally going to be realised. The Ministry had apprehended Wormtail, and Sirius had finally been vindicated; his godfather would rescue him from the clutches of the Dursleys...and they would live happily ever after. That was before...before both his identity and his dreams had been cruelly ripped from him.

Now...Harry was spending this Christmas at Spinner's End with his new found father, who just happened to be the man that Harry detested the most in the whole wide world. The same man who had made his life hell for the past two and a half years.

It had only been two months since he had found out that his mother had kept a secret from both Snape and himself. Bloody Hell! He wasn't even Harry Potter anymore; he was Harry Snape. Harry really didn't want to spend Christmas in this godforsaken hole; he wanted to be with Sirius, Lupin, Hermione and the Weasleys...but NO...he was forced to bond with his father...as Dumbledore had put it.

What was worse, was the fact that Snape had not allowed him to have any contact with Sirius either. The animosity between Snape and Sirius had always been as thick as fog and Snape would not permit Harry to even write a letter to Sirius. Snape had been quite upset when he had first found out that Harry Potter was his son, but he was determined that if Harry was his son and not the progeny of James Potter, then Snape would eradicate any ties whatsoever to James Potter that he could and that included changing Harry's last name to Snape. Last, but not least Snape had removed Sirius Black as Harry's godfather; Snape had insisted that there was no way in hell, that Sirius Black would be his son's godfather. Harry was quite certain that Sirius' feelings for him had probably changed as well. Harry hadn't heard from the man since the paternity test had proven that the greasy git of the dungeons, was his bloody father!

Sirius probably hates me now, Harry thought sadly.

On top of everything else...after the fiasco at the Shrieking Shack, Snape had discovered the existence of Harry's invisibility cloak and the Marauder's Map and he had immediately confiscated the items.

If anyone else had turned out to be Harry's father, Harry would have been overjoyed at having a living relative...but Snape? Ugh! At least the man wasn't insulting him anymore. Well...Snape couldn't very well insult his father…now could he? Harry attempted to swallow his disappointment at the unfortunate turn his life had taken.

A silky voice pulled Harry out of his reverie. “Dinner is ready Mr. Pot-uh...Mr. Snape,” Snape announced Cooly.

Harry cringed at the appellation.

“Go wash up and make yourself presentable first.” Severus looked down his nose at the scrawny boy with the messy hair. He really must take the child out to buy some decent clothes. Severus had been surprised that the boy's relatives hadn't supplied him with a decent wardrobe. The child always looked as though he were wearing clothes fit for a baby whale. Even worse, they were tattered and frayed. An image of Petunia's pinched face came to the forefront of his mind. Severus felt a flash of unexpected annoyance at the thought that the dour woman had not provided Lily's son, her sister's son...Severus' son, with decent attire.

Harry rose from the window seat reluctantly. “Yes sir,” he said dejectedly and went to the loo to wash up.

----

Throughout dinner, Severus studied his son when Harry wasn't looking. The boy looks depressed,Severus decided. He's probably sulking about that flea-ridden mutt, he thought angrily. Snape noticed that Harry was picking at his food as well. Severus huffed. The boy's making me soft. Since when do I care if Po-uh-Harry is depressed? He just didn't know how he was going to ever see this boy as his son.

Then Harry raised his eyes...eyes that were bottomless pools of emerald green...Lily's eyes. Severus' heart twisted painfully. This was Lily's son... his son.

“May I be excused sir?” Harry asked in a small voice. The food tasted like sawdust; Harry had absolutely no desire to eat. He just wanted to curl up in his bed and escape reality for awhile.

Severus glanced at Harry's full plate; he was tempted to demand that the boy empty his plate and normally Severus was quite adamant that Harry always finish his meals. Severus didn't tolerate waste and frankly, his son was skin and bones and looked as though he needed a good meal...Severus wondered why.

“You have not finished your meal,” Severus answered sternly.

“Please sir...I'm really not very hungry,” Harry pleaded.

Again those eyes. “Very well,” Severus relented, “bring your dishes to the sink.”

“Uh...yes sir,” Harry said, surprised that his father had acquiesced so easily.

Harry placed his dishes in the sink and trudged his way silently up to his room. He threw himself on his bed despondently, and stared at the peeling paint on the ceiling. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve and there was no tree... no decorations... and Harry was quite certain that there weren't going to be any Christmas presents either. So much for hot chocolate, Christmas Carols and Father Christmas.

Harry asked himself for the millionth time, why this was happening to him. Harry really missed Sirius and desperately wanted to see him and he was quite anxious as to how Sirius had taken the news about Harry not being James' son. This was supposed to be the best Christmas ever and instead, his hopes of a big family celebration with his godfather, Mooney, Hermione and of course the Weasleys, had vanished into thin air. Instead…he was stuck with Snape the Scrooge.

----

After Harry had gone to bed that night, Severus sat by the hearth, staring at the flickering embers. Quite suddenly, a face appeared in the flames. Dumbledore's face.

Severus groaned. He was not in the mood to listen to Albus' incessant chattering.

“Severus my boy...may I come through?” Dumbledore inquired cheerfully.

Severus lifted a dark eyebrow. “As if I could prevent you, Albus,” Severus replied caustically.

Suddenly...Albus was standing before Severus, brushing off his robes...sending cinders flying in all directions.

Severus huffed in irritation; he retrieved his wand from his pocket and with a swishing motion, vanished all trace of soot from the Headmaster's star and moon-adorned blue robes.

Albus inclined his head in approval. “Thank you Severus. Flooing...while quite convenient, is rather a messy affair, isn't it?” Albus dipped his hand in his pocket and offered its contents to Severus. “Lemon drop?”

Severus shook his head in disgust. “No thank you Albus. I quite like my teeth, thank you.”

Albus chuckled. “Now...on to the reason for my visit.”

It's about time the old coot decided to spit more than just ashes out of his mouth, Severus thought malevolently.

Albus' eyes twinkled with humour... as though he could read Severus' thoughts. “I came to inquire about how things are going with Harry.”

“Oh, just peachy Albus,” Severus responded sardonically.

“Severus!” Albus chided. “I'm serious. How are you two getting along?”

“Fine Albus,” Severus snapped. “Now if you don't mind, I was about to retire for the night.”

“I see. And Harry? How is he doing Severus?” Albus fixed a knowing look at the younger man.

Severus groaned. There was no point in hiding anything from Albus. The man may not have been as gifted as Severus at the art of Leglimency or Occlumency, but dammit... Albus always seemed to know what Severus was thinking.

Severus avoided Albus' gaze. “He's fine Albus...if not a little depressed. It is quite normal, considering the circumstances,” Severus quickly added.

“I see,” Albus replied evenly. Albus swept the room with his eyes and directed a disappointed look at Severus. “It is Christmas Eve Severus. I see that you have not decorated, nor do you even have a tree. Perhaps that is why Harry is depressed. Maybe if you got a tree, allowed the Weasley's to visit, perhaps even-”

Severus looked mortified. “Do not even suggest it!” He bellowed. “First of all...I do not do Christmas!. I do not put up Christmas trees, I do not decorate said Christmas trees and furthermore, I do not sing Christmas Carols...and I have never believed in Father Christmas. And if you think for one moment that I will allow those redheaded menaces in this house, you are sadly mistaken. Oh...and you had better not even suggest that I allow Lupin or that mangy mutt to step one foot over the threshold of this house, or I will personally see to it that the institution that supplies you with your daily supply of confection... goes out of business!

Albus looked at Severus with a pained expression. “Severus, he's only a boy. Harry's whole life has been turned upside down. He finds out that James is not his real father, that his hopes of living with Sirius are not to be realised and now he's forced to stay with his estranged father, far away from his friends and godfather.”

“And just whose idea was that Albus?” Severus pointed out dryly.

“Severus!” Albus admonished. “He's your son. Lily's son! You should be celebrating this special time of the year with him. Harry is your flesh and blood...a product of your love for Lily. Don't you think that it's time to let go of old hostilities and prejudices and embrace this joyous occasion with your son?”

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. No! This was not happening. He was not going to get a Christmas tree. He was not going to allow that brood of hooligans into his house and he was certainly not going to allow a Marauder to step foot in his humble abode. No.

Absolutely. Not!

“Albus...I don't mean to be rude, but I believe that it's time for you to be on your way. It's rather late.”

Albus fixed Severus with a stern look. “Don't take out your anger with me on your son, Severus. Stop living in the past and look to the future. Yes...you may have lost Lily, but she lives on in Harry...your son.”

With that Albus gathered up a handful of floo powder and was lapped up by the lick of flames.

“Damn that old coot,” Severus fumed

----

Harry rubbed the sleep from his eyes and groped for his glasses on the nightstand. Ugh... it's Christmas Day, he realised dejectedly. Harry yanked the covers over his head. There was really no reason to get up. No reason at all.

A brisk knock on the door roused Harry from his self-pity. “Come in,” he responded gloomily.

A deep, familiar voice made him jerk upright from under the covers.

“Good morning sunshine. Rise and shine...wakey wakey.”

“Sirius?”

“Happy Christmas Harry. You'd better hurry up before Sniv-uh-Snape burns the pancakes.”

Harry pinched himself. This was a dream. He closed his eyes for a moment, but when he reopened them, Sirius was still standing before him with a big grin on his face.

“C'mon, you have exactly two minutes to get up, or I know a great spell that your fa-uh-James used on me. It involves ice, and a bucket!”

Harry flew out our bed and ran into Sirius' embrace. “Sirius, is it really you?” Harry pinched Sirius' arm.

Sirius' eyes widened in surprise. “Hey! That hurts! What did you do that for?”

“I just can't believe that you're real, that's all!” Harry said with a wide grin.

“I'm real all right, buddy. C'mon let's go. Snape's a little testy, so we'd better not be keeping him any longer.

Sirius led Harry down the stairs...yanking him by the arm all the way.

What greeted Harry in the parlour made his eyes bug out.

There...situated right in the middle of the room, was a seven foot Christmas tree...with all the trimmings! Harry's jaw dropped.

“C'mon Harry.” Sirius led Harry to the kitchen, where seated around the large oak table were a brood of red-haired freckle-faced teenagers, Lupin and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

“Stop hogging all the pancakes Ron.” George swatted Ron's hand as he was about to reach for the plate filled high with hot, tasty-looking pancakes.

A chorus of “Happy Christmas, Harry,” greeted him when they all noticed him standing there transfixed by the sight before him.

Harry just stood there in shock. He took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes and put his glasses back on again. Everyone was still standing there! This must be a hallucination, he decided. A good one, but a hallucination, nevertheless.

Well, if this really was a hallucination, then he must be imagining those yummy pancakes melting in his mouth, Harry decided happily.

Harry noticed his father seemingly attempting to make himself invisible in the far corner of the kitchen. He looks like he's feeling awkward and uncomfortable, Harry thought. Their eyes met and Harry noticed a flicker of some unknown emotion cross his father's face, but then Snape put up his customary mask once more.

"More pancakes mate?" Ron asked with a full mouth, while holding the plate out to Harry.

Harry pulled his gaze away from his father and grinned at Ron. "Yeah sure," Harry replied contentedly, reaching out for the plate.

After Harry was finished eating, he was virtually dragged into the parlour and plonked onto the couch.

“Time to open presents, mate,” Ron said grinning. He looked over to Hermione, who Harry hadn't noticed before; she’d been hidden behind a horde of Weasleys. “Why don't you hand Harry the first present Hermione?”

After all the presents were opened, Harry noticed his father standing off to the side, surveying the scene before him in obvious distress. Harry couldn't believe that Snape had actually done all this for him. Harry was gobsmacked.

After everyone had left that evening and Harry's stomach was full from the delicious dinner, he sought out his father, who had somehow mysteriously disappeared during the hustle and bustle. He finally found his father in the den, nursing a glass of firewhiskey. Harry knew that Snape didn't like socializing and preferred solitude to mingling with people. Severus was not a man who enjoyed mindless small-talk.

Harry stood hesitatingly in the doorway. “Uh...I just wanted to thank you sir.”

Severus looked at Harry in surprise.

“You are quite welcome...Harry.”

A warm glow gathered in Harry’s chest as he stared at Snape in surprise.

Snape's expression hardened and he pointed his finger at Harry. “But do not think that I will tolerate the mutt... and that...that brood of juvenile delinquents in my home on a regular basis,” Severus spit out distastefully.

The warm glow disappeared.

Harry smiled. Now that's the Snape he knew and ...loved? No... maybe not. But Harry finally felt as though everything was going to be alright.

Snape motioned for the door. “Follow me. I have not given you my present yet.”

Harry looked at Snape in surprise. “But sir! You've already given me the best gift I ever could have hoped for,” Harry insisted.

“Follow me,” Snape repeated and crooked his finger, beckoning Harry in the direction of the parlour.

They sat before the Christmas tree and Snape handed Harry a present wrapped in black paper (it figures, Harry thought amusedly) and a sliver ribbon. Harry looked expectantly at Snape and Snape motioned for Harry to open the gift.

It was the invisibility cloak and the Marauder's Map! Harry looked questioningly at Snape.

Snape nodded his head. “I am returning James' belongings to you, because I feel that although he wasn't your father biologically,” Snape said slowly, “James did, nevertheless deserve that title...as he sacrificed his life for you.”

“Thank you,” Harry croaked, emotion overwhelming him.

“However-” Severus began sternly, “allow me to lay down the terms clearly. You are not to abuse these items in any way. They are to be put away in your trunk and considered as keepsakes only. They are to be used only under threat of bodily harm and with my permission only.” Severus narrowed his eyes. “If I ever find out that you have used them to wander the castle after curfew, leave the school grounds, or to break the rules in any way-” Severus fixed Harry with a stern expression, “not only will I confiscate these items until you are of age, but you will be punished most severely. Are we quite clear on this?” Severus asked in a hard voice.

“Yes, of course sir...thank you, sir!” Harry ran his fingers lovingly over the silky fabric. He would always consider James his father, even though he had a living one now. As far as Harry was concerned, he had two fathers.

Severus cleared his throat and looked uncomfortable. “I have one more gift for you.”

Harry’s eyes widened at the unexpected generosity. ”I'm sorry... but I didn't get you anything,” he said in a small voice.

“That is unnecessary,” Severus said as he handed Harry a package wrapped in old, yellowed paper. Harry pulled off the paper and his breath hitched in his throat. Sitting in an antique picture frame, was a picture of his mother. She looked like she was about sixteen or seventeen and she was waving animatedly at him. Harry thought that he had never seen anyone so beautiful. Her silky long hair hung in shimmering waves of red-gold...framing her beautiful face. Her most outstanding feature, however, was her startlingly clear emerald eyes. Harry's eyes moistened with unshed tears of joy and he was choked for words.

“You have her eyes,” Severus said in a soft voice.

“I-I've been told,” Harry whispered.

Harry looked up at Snape, with glistening eyes.

“Thank you for making this the best Christmas ever...Dad.”